


catharsis

by theia



Series: city of dreams [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Dom/sub Play, Dysfunctional Relationships, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, jungkook is fucked up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 04:01:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theia/pseuds/theia
Summary: “Are you done?” Jungkook rasped out; how he lost his voice in the first place was beyond him, but it served its purpose. Minho reacted exactly how he expected—by clenching his jaw, balling his fists, and baring his teeth like the predator he portrayed himself to be. “I told you to leave me alone.”They were both wasting their time on this stupid game of push-and-pull, from which they had nothing to gain but a truckload of pain and humiliation. If Jungkook had to forcibly cut off ties with his half-brother to avoid the inevitable, then he would gladly do so.“I thought you wanted to be with me,” was Minho’s strained reply, his steely gaze raising to meet Jungkook’s, “You said you loved me. Don’t bullshit me, Jeon Jungkook—I know you need me.“orthe one where jungkook falls in love with his brothers (and develops issues because of it)





	catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> lol hi
> 
> so if you don’t know, this supah short story is part of a series called city of dreams. the first story is one chapter away from an ending, and i’m putting off writing it because haha i’m bad at writing endings.
> 
> this one is more of a character study on jeon jungkook than anything else, and will be updated in conjunction with the next part of the series. if you haven’t read the first story yet, he was basically a minor character there, whose dialogue and actions were sometimes written for some sort of comedic relief. but his character in this series is pretty complex—and frankly, rather dark—which may be hard to see under that greasy fuccboy shell i’ve given him (lol). i was compelled to write this oneshot to explore his background a little more, which is pretty important for the next part of the story (spoiler alert: jinkook. yes).
> 
> blah i always talk too much in author’s notes. i hope you guys enjoy this (+ if you’re waiting for chapter 15 of stop and stare haha i’m soz it’s coming soon)

Loud, sharp knocks resounded throughout the cabin, stirring awake a pale young man.

He had unruly black hair and dark bags under his eyes from constantly sleeping at six in the morning. He glanced at the clock, his mood beginning to sour; it was only 9AM.

He slowly stood, stretching his arms and banging his hand on the low ceiling beam, yet again. Profanities slipped through his lips, all hope of pretending to either be asleep or dead now dashed.

He didn’t bother putting on a shirt, nor did he put any effort into looking presentable. He knew of only a few people who had the gall to bother him at this time of day, and whoever was at the door was certainly one of them. He made his way past the stacks of boxes that lined the walls of the makeshift living room. He nudged some exposed wires away with his foot, before moving to unlock the front door.

It swung open as soon as he heard it click. Someone came barreling towards him, colliding with his chest and forcing all the air out of his lungs.

It was Minho, of-fucking-course it was.

Minho, with his impossibly long lashes and weird aegyo, was hugging him so tightly as if there was no trace of lingering tension between them.

“You’re such a fucking  _ asshole _ .”

Ah, there it was.

His disgruntled expression was met with a punch to the bicep, serving to intensify the already troublesome pain he felt from prior overexertion.

“You go to my place unannounced and fuck the living daylights out of me, then you go and disappear on me for two months— _two fucking months!_ Who do you think you are?!” Minho practically spat in his face, his brows knitted together and shoulders tense. He waited for Minho to finish releasing his frustrations, an activity he usually had no patience for but was essential in keeping their relationship, whatever it may be, intact. “Did you ever think about how _I_ felt for once? Do you ever think of _anyone_ but yourself, _ha?!_ I fucking hate you.”

Jeon Jungkook winced as another blow landed on his body, this time on his chest. He wasn’t frail by any means—far from it, actually—but Minho’s bony fists hitting his skin, coupled with the tears that began to form in his eyes, was nothing short of agonizing.

To keep up appearances of being a normal functioning human being, Jungkook had actually made prior arrangements to meet someone today. Minho’s sudden appearance meant having to adjust his plans, and perhaps cancel them if needed. As for who that person was, it didn’t quite matter—their feelings were of no consequence to Jungkook, and their name would be forgotten as soon as he got what he wanted.

“I have no idea what’s going on with you.” Minho gripped his forearm tightly. “I came here with the intention of catching you dicking someone and kicking your ass, but seeing you like this—“

His voice broke before he could finish his sentence, his features scrunching up into that dejected expression Jungkook had gotten used to seeing.

His hands migrated to either side Jungkook’s cheeks, turning his face from left to right as if to examine it. Minho exhaled as his fingertips wandered south, down to the lines of his jaw and the planes of his shoulders, and to the void that lay beneath.

“Are you eating properly?” His tone was considerably warmer now, devoid of aggression or malice. “Are you getting enough sleep? Still whoring around? I’d prefer if you didn’t answer that last one.”

Jungkook grabbed both his hands, wishing Minho would simply voice the one question that lingered beneath all his meaningless worries. It would make his job a lot easier, and end this whole conversation a lot faster.

“‘m fine.” He said.

_ I’m fine,  _ he repeated in his head.

“Of course you are.” Minho rolled his eyes in exasperation. “The great Jeon Jungkook never allows himself to be seen like this. Only a chosen few have ever gotten the privilege of visiting his little shack up in the mountains, twelve minutes away from the nearest human settlement. He most _definitely_ has no problem with cooking because he’s not afraid of stoves, and he _probably_ doesn’t have AIDS or crotch lice from having sex with anything that breathes. He’s always just _fine.”_

“I don’t have crotch lice.”

“What about AIDS?”

“I use condoms.”  _ With everyone except for you, _ was the addition to the sentence that didn’t need to be voiced. Minho snorted.

“Well, at least  _ I’ve _ tested negative for STDs.” Minho squeezed his shoulder, his earlier grit returning. “Let’s hope you didn’t catch something in the past two months, hm?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. He stood a little straighter to level his gaze with the other man, and squared his shoulders in preparation for the backlash he would undoubtedly receive.

“Are you done?” Jungkook rasped out; how he lost his voice in the first place was beyond him, but it served its purpose. Minho reacted exactly how he expected—by clenching his jaw, balling his fists, and baring his teeth like the predator he portrayed himself to be. “I told you to leave me alone.”

They were both wasting their time on this stupid game of push-and-pull, from which they had nothing to gain but a truckload of pain and humiliation. If Jungkook had to forcibly cut off ties with his half-brother to avoid the inevitable, then he would gladly do so.

“I thought you wanted to be with me,” was Minho’s strained reply, his steely gaze raising to meet Jungkook’s, “You said you loved me. Don’t bullshit me, Jeon Jungkook—I know you need me.“

_ He’s not wrong,  _ a voice in his head argued.

He swallowed thickly.

“I said a lot of things.” Jungkook said. Minho looked just about ready to punch him again, and he deserved it. He deserved all of his anger. “They all had varying degrees of truth to them. Believe what you want, Minho, but we’re over.”

“On what basis, huh? Incest? Or that you’re just a fucked up piece of trash with zero consideration for others?” Minho’s eyes glittered like the sea on a clear, sunny day. It was a beautiful sight. “This isn’t over until we both agree it is. I’m ready and willing to do anything for you, hyung. So just shove your fucking pride up your ass and accept me.”

Jungkook sighed, before rubbing at his eyes with his rough palms. He was in pain now, which only served to prove his point.

“This isn’t about pride.” It never was. Minho didn’t understand.

“Then what? Tell me.” The deliberately irritated tone of voice did little to mask his growing desperation. Jungkook felt it bubbling from beneath the surface of his skin—the wanton need they both felt from lusting after one another, from having to hide their relationship from their father and wondering, not for the last time, if their shared feelings were perhaps morally wrong.

Jungkook didn’t want to hurt Minho, but that desire doesn’t guarantee that he absolutely won’t. There were forces that he had no control over, and every person he ever held dear was right to turn tail and run as far as they could. But Minho was fearless and intoxicating and  _ beautiful,  _ and Jungkook scorned him for it.

“Stubborn idiot,” he whispered under his breath, loud enough for the other man to hear. He pulled his brother closer, until his lips were millimeters away from his earlobe. “I want to wrap my hands around your little neck and watch your pretty face turn blue. I’ll leave bruises on your skin and break your bones and hear you scream in agony. I’ll bend you over right now and fuck you until you bleed, and if you tell me to stop, I’ll go even harder. That’s what you want, right?”

_ “Yes.”  _ Minho shuddered, pressing his palms against Jungkook’s bare chest. “Give your all to me, hyung. I’ll take care of you.”

This was it. The invisible line, the point of no return.

Jungkook pulled at his hair until he yelped in pain, or surprise, or both. He brought their lips together, all clashing teeth and frantic tongue, and hoped Minho would deliver on his promise.


End file.
